


Unexpected by 1lostone

by 1lostone



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mentions of childbirth, Tarsus IV, ksrelativity, vague allusion to abortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:</p><p>Even on Tarsus, the unexpected can occur. That's the best part about growing up though- realizing that at some point, you have to laugh instead of cry.  Not your typical Tarsus IV story</p><p>(orig written in 2011. Moved over here from lj)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected by 1lostone

 

Story Notes:

**Group:** 1 in the [](http://ksrelativity.livejournal.com/profile)[**ksrelativity**](http://ksrelativity.livejournal.com/)  challenge  
 **Prompts:** ruins of Tarsus IV, black cat, glove, childbirth  
 **A/N:**   This went in an entirely unexpected place.,. which was the point, I guess. Ty to [](http://jademac2442.livejournal.com/profile)[**jademac2442**](http://jademac2442.livejournal.com/)  for _everything_ , and to[](http://jlm121.livejournal.com/profile)[ **jlm121**](http://jlm121.livejournal.com/)  and  [](http://littleboycalico.livejournal.com/profile)**littleboycalico**   for listening to me panic.

Chapter 1 by 1lostone

 

Author's Notes:

**Genre:** Err. Angsty Humor (bordering slightly on crack...ish.)  
 **Warnings:** descriptions of labor. Non-explicit McCoy/Uhura pairing. Non-explicit reference to unwanted abortion.

The door swished open with a hiss of sound and Spock stepped forward, only to pause briefly in  
his perusal of the conference room. No sane being would ever refer to him as in tune with human emotion, with all of its illogic and rampant passion, yet there was an almost palpable  sense of ... some undefinable tension hanging in the room. Spock continued forward, crossing behind Nyota’s seat to take his customary position at his Captain’s side.    
  
From that vantage point, he could see the  recent changes in her body and his fingers itched to rub the soft swell of her stomach. It was a most disconcerting impulse. While they had briefly  shared  a relationship of an intimate nature, their congress had been based more in comfort and friendship than lust or love. Spock valued Nyota as a treasured friend and confidant, and knew that she felt the same. Later, Nyota had begun a friendship with Dr. McCoy, and to the ship’s surprise (and Jim’s not-so-private endless amusement) had been married two years later.  
  
Still, when he had been invited to Nyota and Leonard’s quarters, and summarily informed that he and Jim were to share the duties of ‘godparents,’ he did not find the prospect undesirable. Spock had not melded with the infant, but it had given Nyota comfort to have her stomach rubbed (Although to Spock’s consternation, he found that Nyota was extremely particular about how and when to rub), and Spock also found the conversation and camaraderie they shared while Nyota waited for her husband’s shift to end to be quite satisfying.  
  
Now, he saw her strained smile. Nyota, much more comfortable with the nuances off human emotion, had also noticed the tangible tension in the conference room.  
  
He could sense a tightness in Jim’s muscles, as though the younger man was poised for a fight. It was in the line of his shoulders, the way he stared a little too carefully at his PADD, ignoring his bridge crew and senior officers as they trickled into the conference room. For someone whose general state almost bordered on gregariousness, it was not hard to infer that whatever information Jim had received prior to this conference, it did not bode well for the Captain’s general sense of well-being.  
  
Nyota looked from Jim’s bent head to Spock and back again. She widened her eyes, staring significantly at him. This was a habit of hers that Spock found most perplexing. No matter how many times Spock attempted to understand the ins and outs of the human psyche, he always failed to discover why it was that Nyota insisted on using non-verbal cues to make Spock aware of the Captain’s emotional state.  Had he been human, he would have shrugged at her. As it was, he simply raised an eyebrow and seated himself.  “I trust that Doctor McCoy, Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Sulu will be arriving post haste.”  
  
“Yeah. They’ll be here.” Jim’s voice was devoid of any emotional nuances. “We can begin when they-- ah. Please be seated, gentlemen.”  
  
Spock noted the way the doctor’s eyebrow rose, the way the smile of greeting died on the young navigator's lips. Jim stood, turning to look out of the small observation window as the three men took their customary places around the conference table. Spock watched as he clenched his fists once before forcing himself to relax. He stood there for a moment, shifting his weight on his heels. Spock recognized the maneuver; it was used when Jim did not particularly want to share private information, yet knew that his duties required him to do so.  
  
“I received a communique from Starfleet, marked classified. I had to argue with Archer and Komack on this; to even get them to agree to let you guys know what we’re doing. So obviously, no logs or discussion with other crew until I let you know.”  
  
“Jim- I think we know what classified means.  Get to the point.”  Spock knew that the doctor’s irascible nature caused him to frequently speak without thinking, yet in the three years that they had served together under Jim’s leadership he could detect Leonard’s concern at the stiff way Jim was holding himself in the doctor’s hostile tone.  
  
When Jim began to speak, he continued to direct his attention towards the observation window, completely ignoring the doctor’s remark. “We have been ordered on a planetary mapping mission. Several years ago there were was some trouble there, and since then no one has lived on its surface since then, this is the first....”  Jim broke off with an unsteady breath. Spock saw Ensign Chekov give Lieutenant Sulu a worried glance out of the corner of his eye and sat straighter. “Scans have shown  that the soil is rich in trilithium kellanite. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how much Starfleet is hoping on a positive confirmation.”  
  
“Aye. That’s hundreds of warp core modifications, right there.”  Scotty’s voice sounded like someone who had just met their deity face to face.    
  
“Yeah.” Jim turned around.  
  
Spock almost flinched at the dead look in his captain’s eyes. He had an illogical desire to request that Jim not speak, that he keep whatever it was that he was about to say to himself.  
  
“It’s Tarsus IV.”  
  
Spock heard Leonard’s sharp gasp of shock, but couldn’t look away from the wooden look on Jim’s face. Spock knew of the tragic incident of course. Fifteen years ago, the crops on the small colony of Tarsus IV had failed, causing a world-wide famine.  Later reports had shown that a fungus had destroyed all of the plant life. In the ensuing panic rising from the famine-starved colonists, the colony’s governor, Kodos, had ordered that half of the population be killed in order for the other half to survive. He had later been killed in the uprisings that followed. There had been very few survivors. Once they had been returned to Starfleet and the news of the situation had leaked to  the general public, ragged pictures of emaciated women, men and children had flooded the nets. More than half of the survivors had perished on the starship charged with returning them to Earth, their bodies too weak and broken to withstand the medical treatments.  Only nine had remained.  
  
Nine out of a colony of over 5500.  
  
Spock remembered his mother weeping while watching the feeds of the senseless tragedy, trying to hide her brittle tears behind shaking hands, stifling the sound of her empathy. The sixteen year old Spock had been unable to comprehend the logic that had allowed such a needless loss of life and had attempted to question his mother- only to find his father, who after seeing his mother’s red and blotchy face, had forbidden the topic.  
  
Yet that did not explain Jim’s reaction, so many years later. A small, niggling idea began to bloom deep in Spock’s mind.  
  
“They have asked that we go to the planet and take samples, cataloguing the stability of the minerals. They are figuring that the minerals caused the interference that kept our communications from going out, so we’ll have to coordinate everything before we go down. We will be joined later by either the Copernicus or the Saragon--”  
  
“Jim, surely they can’t---”  
  
“Bones. We have our orders, everyone. I’ve sent mission specs to all of you. We should arrive at Tarsus within seven hours.  Dismissed.”  
  
“Jim! Now wait just a goddamn minute, here!”  
  
Spock did not understand why the doctor was so upset, but he did understand the necessity of following orders. “Doctor McCoy, I believe that the Captain has ordered us to disperse.”  
  
Leonard threw Spock a look of such fury that Spock could not help raising an eyebrow.  Nyota reached out and touched Leonard’s elbow and Spock watched as the irate man composed himself with several deep breaths.  He turned to assist Nyota to her feet. The others had already disappeared, and Spock, Nyota and Leonard were to the conference room doors when they heard a strangled sounding “Bones.” Leonard stopped short, turning.    
  
Spock looked from Jim, whose face seemed to be crumpling, to Nyota who looked as curious about the manner as he. “Lieutenant, permit me to assist you to your quarters.”  
  
“Of course.” Her smile was bright, beautiful.  
  
“Thanks, Spock.” Leonard nodded at him, but was already moving towards Jim who was clearly in some medical distress. Spock hesitated for just an instant as he saw Jim’s heavy breaths and shaking shoulders. Then Leonard was there, blocking his sight of Jim.  
  
Spock ignored the small, hurt feeling that lingered deep within at the way Jim had asked for Leonard, instead of himself. It was illogical to attempt to compare his friendship with Jim to Jim’s friendship with Leonard. He should be satisfied that Jim had someone to fulfill his emotional needs.    
  
“What do you think that was all about? I hope that Jim will be okay...” Nyota broke off, frowning a little.  
  
“I am sure he will be ... fine... by the time we reach Tarsus IV.”  
  
Nyota smiled at his informality. Spock saw her to her and Leonard’s quarters, then turned and made his way back to his own cabin. He continued to go over the mission brief in his mind, hearing again and again the thick sounding “Bones.” that had burst from Jim’s lips.  A cry for... assistance. Emotional security. Spock’s lips twitched in a minute frown.  
  
Spock had never been particularly good at identifying the emotional needs of his fellow crew members- even with all of the many months spent working and living with them. He understood that it was quite likely that was something that he would always struggle with. Emotions, along with the complexities of human amusement were often based in subtle nuances with which he simply had no experience. He understood the need for comfort. He knew that Jim and Leonard had been friends for years. He also understood that they both relied on each other.  
  
What he didn’t understand was why he could not seem to cease desiring that Jim had cried out “Spock” in that strangled, desperate voice instead.  


* * *

  
  
Three-point-two hours later found Spock reading and rereading the information Jim had sent to his PADD. It was pretty straightforward: mission brief, background on the various minerals, Starfleet’s  plan for setting up a temporary colony. Spock could not help but notice that the normal innocuous remarks that Jim often made about various missions was missing.  No jokes, no wit, no tasteless sexual innuendo. The little niggle of disquiet that he had first felt in the conference room reasserted itself.  
  
The security on Starfleet records, even confidential ones was quite good.  
  
Spock was better.  
  
He read file after file, his heart beginning to pound in his side. Spock’s eyes narrowed as he began to realize just why it was that Starfleet had chosen the flagship, and particularly its captain, to warp to the deserted colony. Spock had often heard the expression, “to see red with rage” before. When Jim had taunted him into losing his shaky control, Spock had been furious, true. When his age-mates had called his mother a whore, Spock had been vehement in his displeasure.  
  
But when he read the file and learned the plans decided upon by Starfleet, Spock felt as though he wanted to injure something. Green filled his field of vision, obscuring the words he continued to read over and over. His hands tightened on his computer and the metal gave with a groan of protest and a bright burst of sparks. Spock snatched his hands back, jumping out of his chair, only to attempt to expel some of this abundance of energy by pacing the small confines of his quarters.    
  
It was... he did not... Nyota.  
  
Nyota would be able to explain such folly. And Leonard could not be aware either. He must be sure that they knew. Hopefully the three of them could figure out what to do before Jim learned of the farce that Starfleet had planned for their captain once he reached the colony.  
  
Spock whirled, striding out of his cabin and to Nyota and Leonard’s with strides that did nothing to burn any of the excess energy.  
  
“Hey, Spock?”  
  
Jim.  
  
“Yes, Captain?”  
  
“There’s something I... I should probably tell you. Got a minute?”  
  
Spock halted, mind whirling.  “Not at this time. I must speak with Nyota. “ He needed her to explain, to help him comprehend why it was that the service of which he had dedicated his life had chosen to... he could not speak with Jim at this time. “Perhaps I will be able to...”  
  
“Nah.”  Jim forced a smile that did not reach his eyes. “It’s no biggie, Spock. You look kind of... off. Is there something I can do for you?”  
  
Spock actually flinched. “Not at this time, Captain,” he repeated.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Doctor McCoy to Captain Kirk. You planning on getting your ass down here sometime this century?”  
  
“Yeah, Bones. On my way. Kirk out. Bye, Spock. I’ll need you on the bridge later.”  
  
“Of course, Captain.”  Spock had already stepped towards Nyota’s door when he realized what Jim had just actually asked. He had been so focused that he had not realized that Jim had desired to share a confidence with him... Appalled, he turned back towards Jim, but before he could speak, the turbolift doors slid shut on Jim’s downcast eyes.  
  
Spock’s lips tightened in frustration before he straightened his shoulders and continued to Nyota’s door.  The door chimed and he entered at her command.  
  
“Nyota, forgive my intrusion, but I find myself most confused about... Nyota?”  
  
She was quite obviously agitated, pacing in the common area of the suite.  He could see her bare toes underneath the uniform she wore. She often compared herself to a tomato in the bright red pants suit, but had refused to wear the small skirt that she normally favored.  Spock did not know what a weeble-wobble was, or how Nyota could possibly look like one, but he often did not understand her affinity for obscure Terran popular culture references. He thought she looked quite aesthetically pleasing in fact.  
  
“Spock? Do you think I am too fat for duty?”  
  
Spock blinked. He had noticed a certain ungainly step- some might call it a waddle- as she paced, but he certainly had no intention of mentioning this fact to her. Several months ago, he had asked why she seemed to eating several helpings of pickles dipped in fudge- a concoction which had absolutely no nutritional value that Spock could discern- only to blink in surprise as she dumped the whole tray over his head, stomping off in anger.  Leonard had watched the entire exchange, and as Spock calmly cleaned his ears of dripping chocolate, had suggested some alternate methods of speaking to a pregnant woman in between highly unseemly guffaws of glee.  
  
It had been most perplexing.  
  
“I have no comment on the matter. However, I must speak with you. It concerns Jim. Is it possible for you to ask your doctor here? I fear this concerns him as well.”  
  
Nyota stopped frowning at herself in the mirror and turned, concerned.  “Spock?”  
  
He found that once again he was agitated. “Please, kaisu. I find that I need your counsel.”  
  
Spock watched as Nyota’s face changed from mildly irritated to even more worried for him and wondered briefly why it was that he could read her emotions, but had such difficulty with other’s. perhaps it was because she truly was like a kiasu, a sister.  
  
“Sure, Spock. You know you can tell me anything. But I’m afraid Leonard is working on Yeoman Rand. He’ll be busy for awhile.”  
  
Ah. Of course. the yeoman had contracted an extremely potent strand of an illness and was under quarantine. Likely, that was where Jim had been summoned.  “I had forgotten.”  
  
Nyota took another step forward, grabbing his hands and pulling him unceremoniously to the couch. “Spock. You never forget anything. Tell me.”  
  
And so he did. The fact that the files that alluded that Jim had lived on Tarsus for an undisclosed amount of time brought tears to her eyes. The fact that Starfleet had planned a media extravaganza two days after the Enterprise had beamed down the survey team (of which Admiral Komack insisted Jim lead) without first preparing Jim caused her eyes to narrow. Nyota caught her breath and bowed her head so that their foreheads kissed.  
  
“Nyota. I do not- I am a loss to explain how this could in any way be beneficial to... for... It is much like my own... experience.”  Spock desperately needed to meditate. He could hear the fine tremble of his words and wanted the control that his meditation would bring. His hands rested in his lap and Nyota slowly released his wrists, sighing.    
  
“Unfortunately, Spock, yeah. I absolutely don’t agree with this any more than when they shoved all those damned cameras in your face when we got back to the Academy,” she broke off, voice tight. “We have to tell Jim. Springing this on him blind is just cruel. I don’t care how badly they need the positive PR. Oh god. Poor Jim. When he was just a ... he had to just have been a kid!”  
  
It was then that the facts in the classified files began to take shape in Spock’s mind. The starved children, eyes wide with the atrocities they’d survived, all began to look like Jim. The depositions where children talked of eating ....    
  
Nyota began to cry, her distress surging through the skin to skin contact. Spock stepped away to get her a wet cloth. Nyota’s sobbing was still heartfelt. Strange really. Spock had never before cried in his life. Yet hearing Nyota express her own pain- pain she felt on behalf of the man she so clearly respected- struck Spock as ... necessary. Spock’s own throat was tight when he commed the doctor.  
  
“Doctor. It is no medical emergency, but you are needed---”  
  
“Ah, Spock. Good glad I could get you. I’m afraid that won’t be possible for awhile.”  Over the comm, Spock could clearly hear Jim’s cursing.    
  
“Is there some-”  
  
“Naw, nothing like that!” Leonard raised his voice. “Jim, you damn infant, we’ll be fine! I sealed the room you idiot. That’s the point of a quarantine!”  
  
Spock opened his mouth to respond when he heard Nyota’s sharp, “Quarantine, Leonard?”  
  
“Uh.. now, darlin’....”  
  
“Don’t you ‘now, darlin’ me Leonard Horatio McCoy!”  
  
Spock could practically hear Leonard wince.  Had Spock had any less control over his body’s reactions, he too would have perhaps put a finger to his ear to ascertain that he was not deaf from the note his kaisu had managed to reach in her displeasure.  
  
“What do you mean, quarantine?!”  
  
“Spock? Did you have something you needed to tell me?” Leonard sounded somewhat harried, his words rushed.  
  
“Not at this time. I believe Nyota had a more pressing query.”  
  
There was a silence. Than a sigh.  “Well... shit. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this, babe. But I might have made a .. small miscalculation. Remember when I said I’d figured out the strain of damn space bugs? If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand damn times. Space is disease and danger wrapped in---”  
  
Nyota cleared her throat. Pointedly.  
  
“Ah, what I was sayin’, darlin’ is that I made a small miscalculation. Looks like I’ll be sharin’ Rand’s quarantine for a few days. But don't you worry. We’re safe and all.  Just need to take time for the joyjuice to work. The trouble is.. ah, I have the vaccine with me.”  
  
Spock heard a low grinding sound, as though Nyota were grinding her teeth together. “You have. The vaccine. With you. Fortunately your notes can be sent. To your team of amazingly qualified doctors and nurses who--”  
  
The doctor coughed.  
  
“Uhura, don’t tear my balls off, but you should see him right now.  He looks like he’s about to burst into tears. I’m out here with Chapel and she says that the vaccine takes three days to make. Which they have started just to be safe. Oh and she says to remind you that you have an appointment for her to check out your.. uh.. stuff.”  
  
Spock watched Nyota struggle from going to irate exasperation from her mate’s mistake to not-quite hidden amusement at Jim’s obvious nervousness even in speaking about Nyota’s baby. He watched as she rubbed absently at her lower stomach and recognizing the movement, reached out a hand to assist her.  It seemed to calm the infant, and relieve Nyota’s discomfort. Spock refused to acknowledge that he, too found comfort in the small, intimate gesture.  
  
“Okay, Jim, thanks. His balls are safe.”  Both could clearly hear the muttered ‘thank god’ from the open comm line. Spock’s eyebrow rose, almost certain that was some kind of colloquialism.  
  
“Captain, if you are free, there is a matter of some import that I must discuss with you.”  Spock watched Nyota’s beautiful eyes grow more sad as she remembered their previous conversation.  
  
“Oh. Yeah, that’s fine. My quarters in ten.”  
  
“Acknowledged, sir.”  
  
“Kirk out.”  
  
Nyota leaned up and kissed Spock on the cheek. “If you need anything, let me know. I can be there in just a few minutes. I know you don’t understand why they’re doing this, Spock.  But he has to be told.”  
  
“I know. Sanok-run-tor, Nyota.”  
  
“Thank you, Spock. I’m sure they will be very good dreams. I’m just going to call Leo and make sure he  completely understands that I am somewhat disappointed he will not be joining me for them.”  
  
Spock nodded, watching as she waddled slightly to the bed with her hand on her lower back. The look on her face spoke volumes, even to someone who was less than well versed in the complexities of human emotion. Spock could almost pity Leonard the oncoming conversation.  
  
Fortunately, his presence was needed elsewhere at this moment.

  
***

 

Spock was appalled at his lack of control.  He watched as Jim read the file Spock had stolen, blond head bowed. There was no sign of the impact of its contents, other than the tightening of his fingers on the PADD.

   
Spock would not have chosen to give Jim this information in this matter- but ships business had interfered. Almost as soon as Spock had raised his hand to the door sensor on his Captain’s door, the same door had opened to reveal Jim’s frowning face.

   
“Sorry, Spock,” he had said with a tight smile. “Gonna have to take a rain check.” And indeed, the jolt of a phaser hitting the ship’s shields had diverted both of them from their conversation. The small Klingon cruiser had fired once again before they could get to the bridge.

 

The battle, such as it was, had been over quickly. Their opponents had been working apart from the Empire, as more of a pirate crew than anything else. Their capture and subsequent entry into the Enterprise’s brig was almost routine. It was with very little surprise that they learned that the minerals on Tarsus IV were not as secret as Starfleet had hoped.

 

The incident did, however, make it quite difficult for Spock to find an apt moment to tell Jim of Starfleet’s plans. It was hardly a matter for the crew on the bridge to hear.  Not so much because Spock’s procurement of the document was not all together legal, but because he would not chose to give Jim that information in front of his crew.

  
Still, Spock thought that he should have found a better place than the transporter room. He had asked the ensign to leave them, and disliked the way Jim stood there woodenly, as he stared at the same information over and over.

  
“Bridge to Lieutenant Sulu.”

  
Spock had been staring at the bowed head, and refused to acknowledge that Jim’s sudden call caused him to jump a little where he stood.

  
“Yes, Captain.”

  
“We have a small change of plans.” Spock met Jim’s blue gaze with his own calm one, raising an eyebrow at Jim’s words.

  
“Sir?”

  
“I’m gonna need Spock down there with me. We’re going armed, and without security. You’ll have the conn while we’re down here. And Sulu? There’s gonna be some guests coming in. The _Twain_ , the _Murrow_ , the _Hearst_ and the _Sinclair,_ in particular.”

  
“Captain-- those are... those are media ships.”

  
“Yes, they are, Mister Sulu.”

 

"Understood, Captain.” Jim looked surprised at the fierce tone of Sulu’s acknowledgement.  as Nyota had when she learned that something had threatened her Captain.

  
“Thanks. Kirk, out.”

  
Spock could see nothing on Jim’s face or in his body language that matched the anger in the bright blue eyes. 

  
“You ready, Spock?”

 

“Affirmative.”

 

“Then let’s go. I’ll show you where I grew up. It’ll be fun.”

 

Spock very much doubted that, but said nothing as he took his place on the pad. Kirk punched in the coordinates and walked up to his spot, his gaze meeting Spock’s once as they beamed down.

 

The area they materialized in was fairly innocuous. The plateau had some rock formations, and stretched, seemingly endlessly out into the blue sky.  Grass waved in the wind. Spock stole a surreptitious glance at Jim’s face before continuing to look, indulging his curiosity. He heard Jim’s shaky breath. “I lived here for two years.” He pointed. “Just down that way, about three kilometers. After-- after everything, it seemed completely ironic that this is where we held up, hiding from the guards.”  Jim took a step, and then another, walking over to the rocks. “You know? I made sure that we’d get here early. I wanted to be sure that I’d have some time to- I guess, lay some ghosts to rest before all the scientists and shit showed up.”

 

“Then it is fortunate that you were able to do so.”

 

Jim snorted. “Yeah, fortunate.” He kicked at some rocks. What Spock had first assumed to be just an odd outcropping of rocks was in fact the base of a small cave. The planet was strangely tiered, with the ruins of the colony spread out below them in an orderly sprawl, then a wooded area, then this plateau that faced the cliff. Further up was the highest point, as though the original colony builders had decided to build into the cliff.  “Spock, you sure you want to... see this?”

 

“I wish to see whatever you wish to show me, Jim.”

 

Jim paused for a moment, his shoulders slumping. He sat near a large boulder and sighed heavily. “It’s just weird. I’ve spent literally _years_ trying not to remember. And now I’m here.”

 

There was nothing productive that Spock could say, so he simply waited, crossing his hands behind his back. 

 

“Spock? Can I ask you something?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Why... why did you seem more mad about the press than about me being here? God, that sounds as stupid out loud as it did in my head. It’s just that all the doctors, and the shrinks, hell, even Bones when I told him...”

 

Spock felt a muscle in his cheek twitch. He cocked his head, staring at the way Jim scuffed his toes in the dirt, focusing on the ground instead of Spock.

 

“You are not a commodity.” Jim’s gaze darted up to Spock’s before edging away like an insect from the light. “What you have suffered here, on this planet is not ...” Spock trailed off. “Captain, I am not well versed in explaining...”

 

“I know. But, try okay? Please? For me?”

 

Why was it that he could refuse this human nothing?

 

Spock shifted his weight and began again, only to shut his mouth with a snap. He did not have the words to properly convey the importance of this conversation. Spock felt a slight panic that Nyota was not here. She would know exactly what to say. “I grieve with thee, Jim.”  Spock watched as Jim sat up a little straighter on the rock. “Were my mother alive, she too would grieve with thee. Beings whose lives you will never know grieve with thee. Yet with all of that, the... atrocities you suffered here,...” Spock’s lips tightened and he tried again. “I believe that the past, no matter how ill-enjoyed, does contribute to how we perform in the present. Those events, though we might often wish they did not occur, are responsible for how we conduct ourselves.” Spock tightened his shoulders, allowing himself a deep breath. “So while I do grieve with thee, I would not take your experiences away. How can one know what one event, if removed, will change who they are?”

 

Jim blinked rapidly for a moment before fixing his stare at somewhere near Spock’s knees.  Spock crouched, and greatly daring, placed his hands on Jim’s shoulders. “I would not have you change, Jim.” His voice was low. For some reason, his heart beat twelve percent more rapidly in his side, as his eyes met Jim’s wide blue gaze. “The fact that Starfleet wishes to ‘cash in,’ I believe is the correct Terran colloquialism, on your experiences is repugnant.” Spock noticed that Jim’s face had tilted forward, slightly. Spock watched as Jim’s eyelids shut for a moment, before opening again, focusing on Spock’s mouth as he spoke. “It speaks of cowardice and base” All Spock could see was Jim’s face. “....opportunistic...”

 

“Mrrr?”

 

Spock was whirling, his phaser pointed at the threat before his next breath. It appeared mostly feline, although it was missing both a tail and its left front paw.

  " _Mitt_ ens?!”

 

The beast’s large green eyes narrowed. It stalked forward on three legs, muscles tight at the intrusion.  Spock’s finger was ready on the trigger, his attention on the black beast as it took another step forward, a low growl in its chest.

 

“Spock _no_!” Jim sprung forward, stumbling a little in his haste as he fell to the ground in front of the feline, holding out his hands in supplication. Spock was astounded when Jim lowered his voice, almost crooning at the irate animal. “Hey, Mittens? It’s me, Jimmy.  _Tch Tch Tch_ , kitty...I can’t believe you’re here! I looked for you for for _ever_.” Jim’s voice was strangely thick.

 

Spock knew that the odds of a childhood pet surviving the famine, let alone the odds of the pet belonging to one of the nine surviving members were astronomically high. Yet, He watched as Jim inched closer and closer to the furious animal, talking in a slow, patient voice.

 

“C’mon, now. Come here, Mittens. It’s just me, baby.” 

 

Spock’s fingers twitched as the black feline made a dark sound deep in its throat before stretching out its neck to sniff at Jim’s fingers. Spock found that his eyes reacting to the pollen in the air by becoming curiously wet.

 

“That’s right, kitty. Aww, I’m so sorry. I know, you’re probably pissed that I left you. C’mon now. I tried to look for you, but they wouldn’t let me. Stupid hypospray took me out before I could tell them about you. Come on, now. Please don’t be mad...”

 

Spock well-recognized that cajoling tone. His own defences against it were abysmal. When faced with that particular tone, Spock found himself acquiescing to Jim’s requests an alarming 92% of his time.  He raised an eyebrow as the feline took a halting step forward, than another, until Jim scooped it up in his arms, resting his weight back on his heels as he whispered to it. Feeling rather foolish, Spock put his phaser away. Now that Jim was holding it- he could see that it was indeed a cat- although it must have some other species intermingled in its blood for it to be alive so long. 

 

Spock had the oddest desire to go to Jim and perhaps card his fingers through his hair. He frowned, appalled at himself.  He did not understand why he had this compulsion to constantly touch, but ... but. It had no place on a starship. Especially with his commanding officer.

 

_But you are not currently on a starship_ , his mind whispered, quite unhelpfully.

 

The feline was currently stretched out over Jim’s lap legs splayed, butting its head at Jim’s fingers, while Jim scratched at its belly.The purr was loud enough to echo slightly off of the rocks near them.  “Spock, oh my god, I can’t believe this. This was my... my brother bought me a kitten when we first got he ... _fuck_. I don’t know how....” He broke off his babble, looking up at Spock with wet eyes.

 

 Spock felt another uncomfortable twinge in the region of his heart at the look on his captain’s face- bright, fierce joy, blinding white smile, eyes unclouded by worry or past remembrances.  “While it does seem unlikely, it also is apparent that that animal knows you.” The ‘animal’ in question was currently in such a state of feline joy, that it could only twitch feebly on Jim’s lap as Jim stroked and petted its body.  “Perhaps we should beam him up to the Enterprise, sir.”

 

“Oh yeah! Jesus, how could I forget? We’re on a time thing here.”

 “Indeed.” Spock saw Jim wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Although, it is not necessary to do so quite immediately.” 

 

 Jim’s grin bloomed again, this time just for Spock. Spock found that he could not breathe for a moment. He made a mental note to have ensign Chekov scan the planet for unbalanced atmospheric gasses. It wouldn’t do for the scientists to have issues with oxygenated air flow.  While they did have some time to spare, there was not all that much, so Spock took a few steps away from Jim and his Mittens to take some planetary readings. 

 

Since the tragedy on Tarsus, Starfleet had come to realize that part of the reason that it had taken them so long to respond to the colony’s desperate cries for assistance was due to the strange radiation that reacted to the minerals in the planet’s soil. When the situations were right, communications became compromised to the extent that people believed that they had sent the message, but it scrambled the signal so much that it never got to where it was originally sent. It had also made it impossible for the starships to beam down as needed; instead they found that they could only successfully use the transporter when the conditions were right between the radiation from the sun and the minerals in the planet and the planet’s two moons.

 

Part of the reason the Enterprise had been ordered to Tarsus was so that Spock and his science team could calculate and predict the best time for communication and transportation. It was a simple task, almost a caveat. An afterthought. Such a simple task was far beneath the level of scientific minds on the Enterprise, yet... yet.  There they were.

 

“Captain!”

 

 Jim and Spock’s gazes locked in shocked surprise. “Lieutenant?” His communicator had such a sensitive range that it sounded like Nyota was right there with them.

 

“He’s _your_ best friend! He’s driving me insane! I want to file a complaint he’s a sexist, overbearing, _asshole!_ ”

 

“Uh. Nyota, this is kind of a bad time. We’re on an open line, here. Maybe this would be best discussed in person.”

 

Spock heard a sound that put him in mind of a Shelat being hit with a bucket of cold water. His eyebrow rose. Jim looked as though he couldn’t decide whether he was horrified, amused, or terrified. 

 

“ _That_ is an excellent idea! Uhura _out_!”

 

“Jeez.”

 

 “Indeed.”

 “Kirk to Enterprise. I have one small male animal to beam up. Make arrangements for him to be checked out, and I’ll be up when I can. And hurry, please. We’re on a time thing here.”

 “Acknowledged, Captain. I’ll take him down myself.”

 “Thank you Ensign. Kirk out.”

 

 Jim put down his former pet and took a step backwards. The cat followed, turning and flopping over onto its back, batting its three paws up at Jim. “Aww, don’t worry little man. I’ll be with you in just a bit.”  The cat’s purr was loud as Jim stepped out of transporter range.

 

They were surprised by the sound of the transporter- but not where they had thought it would be. The sound was directly behind them. Both he and Jim whirled. Spock’s eyes widened as he saw Nyota standing there, hands fisted on her hips.

 

“- **-DAMNIT NYOTA UHURA MCCOY DON’T YOU _DARE_ USE THAT FUCKING CONTRAPTION! YOUR DAMNFOOL MOLECULES WILL BE SPREAD FROM HERE TO--** ”

 

“You don’t get to decide what I am or am not doing!”

 Spock could hear sounds of incoherent sputtering over the sound of Jim’s comm.

 

“ **I’M THE _CHIEF MEDICAL OFFICER_ OF THE FLAGSHIP OF THE USS ENTERPRISE _AND YOUR HUSBAND_ AND IF I SAY THAT YOU’RE TOO CLOSE TO LABOR TO BE TRAMPING AROUND THE GODDAMN**\--”

 

 “Oh yeah? Mister Chief Medical Officer? They teach you how to observe quarantine requirements in that fancy Academy doctor school?”

 

“ **OKAY GUYS**!” Jim’s bellow startled Mittens into a startled squawk. Spock was somewhat shocked when he batted at Jim’s pants leg before crouching down low on his belly. The stump of her tail twitched madly as she looked from Jim to Nyota. “Bones, don’t worry. The Lieutenant will be beamed back _immediately_.”

 

“What do you mean **BEAMED _BAC_** \--”

 

“The hell I will! I’m not on duty! I registered time off!”

 

“Kirk to Enterprise.” There was an odd sound, a mix between static and electronic interference. “Captain Kirk to Enterprise, respond.” Jim’s gaze met Spock’s.  He nodded at Jim’s unasked question and watched as Jim’s gaze hardened.

 

“How long?”

 

“Approximately three hours, Jim.”

 

Spock watched as Nyota began to realize what had happened.  She seemed to shrink in on herself, as though she had taken a blow of some sort. “Shit. I just screwed up, didn’t I.” She looked at him, “I didn’t mean... It just... He told me that I was ‘unfit for duty’.”  Her tone put Spock in mind of an irate adolescent. 

 

 “I’m glad I’m not Rand right now.”

 

The non-sequitur startled Nyota out of her surprise. “Captain?”

 

 “Oh, now I’m ‘Captain?’” Jim’s smile was wry. “Think about it, Ny. He’s going to be going batshit insane up there- worrying that you’ve scrambled his little blob there, or worse, scrambled yourself up like an egg. He’s probably worried sick, and upset that he’s can’t be with you. And _he_ probably read the mission brief, so he knows he _won’t_ be with you for awhile.”

 

 Nyota’s lovely face paled. She swayed a bit on her feet. “My pregnancy does not make me unfit for duty.” She bit out the words, turning and stalking off with a swing of her ponytail.

 

 Jim looked to Spock for guidance. Spock had no answer at this time. Spock watched as Jim took a deep breath and walked over to where she stood, arms akimbo, back rigid. Spock knew that position must be causing her undue stress; he should, having been tasked with rubbing her lower back no less than three-hundred and eighty-seven times since her third trimester.

 

Jim scooped up Mittens and took a deep breath. It struck Spock that even now, when he had suffered through somewhat of an emotional upheaval, Jim still reached out to his crew to assist them with their own needs before giving in to what had to be his own need for comfort and solace.

 

 “So yeah, beaming down here was kind of blazingly stupid. You want to hear the reasons why?”

 

 Of course, Spock reflected, Jim Kirk had his own unique way of comforting those he cared about.

 

 “Yeah, so I guess you’re stuck here for three hours. Why’d you beam down in such a huff? Wanted to see the place for yourself?”

 

Nyota’s gasp was loud- even over the sound of Mittens’ purring.  “I...”

 

 “Nah. I know. But just so you know, the next time someone accuses you- well, okay your _worried-sick husband_ accuses you of acting a little crazy because of baby... stuff... beaming down on a dead planet in a fit of glorious bitchiness probably isn’t the way to prove him wrong. You know why he’s so protective.”

 

Had Spock been wholly human, his mouth would have fallen open at the way Nyota seemed to wince, flinching at Jim’s words. Spock was not privy to the intimate details, but he did know that Leonard’s first wife had done something the healer had deemed unforgivable, and their marriage had suffered as a result. Given his recent reactions and uncompromising protectiveness of both Nyota and their child, it was not difficult to surmise what his first wife had done.

 

 “I didn’t mean....” Nyota sounding so woebegone was new. Spock catalogued the way her eyes widened, a fine sheen of tears threatening to spill over. She looked wretched, and Spock surmised that she did, indeed regret her hasty words to her husband.

 

Jim shifted the large feline to his shoulder. Spock watched with a raised eyebrow as the large beast flopped down over his shoulder and back, managing to twist so that he butted Jim’s neck as he did so. The look on its face as Jim obligingly rubbed its head, scratching underneath its chin and between its ears, was pure pleasure.

 

“I know.  And he knows, I’m sure. Bones is weird like that. And _you_ know that he doesn’t really think that you’re ... psyc--er... well, whatever. He loves you.”

 

Nyota sighed, turning towards Jim. “You’re kind of smart for a dumb hick from Iowa.”

 

Jim’s own smile was bright. “Yeah. Surprises me too. So here’s the deal. You beamed down here to work, so we best put you to work.”

 

“Oh god. I can’t believe I... wait. Why can’t I just beam back?”

 

“You definitely didn’t read your mission debriefing.” Jim clucked his tongue and wagged his finger. “Spock, make a note of this in her file. Nyota Uhura isn’t perfect.”

 

Spock’s lips twitched at the disgusted sound she made. Predictably, she rolled her eyes and began to hit Jim in the shoulder, only to stop when the cat on Jim’s shoulder looked at her out of one half-slitted, bright green eye.

 

“Who is your friend?” Nyota took a step forward, rubbing absently on her lower stomach.

 

“This is Mittens. He was my cat the last time I stayed here.”  Jim made a face. “I make it sound like I was just hanging out after a vacation.”

 Nyota waddled over (not that Spock cared to share this observation with her) to pet the cat. “Aren’t you adorable?”

 The cat stretched, seeming to agree that yes, in fact it was adorable.

 

“This is fucking surreal. I feel like I’m leading a tour or something.” Jim shook his head. “Okay then, you guys want to see where I lived?”

 

Spock met Nyota’s gaze out of the corner of his eye. Jim put the cat down and scrubbed his palms on his trousers, answering his own question. “Come on. I’ll show you the cave first.” He took a few steps towards the boulder he’d sat on before, stopping to help Nyota up the few steps. “So, we lived here. After everything went to hell, me and some of my friends decided that it was better to stay out of the colony proper until things .. uh, settled down.”

 

He took a step up and pointed. “There used to be this foliage, right? It sucked. I was allergic to some of the leaves, and there were briers and nettles and shit. But it saved our lives. It hung down and was thick enough that it kept people from seeing our cave.  Be careful. It dips a little.”

 

It did. The way out twisted snakelike, illuminated only by the sun from outside. Nyota’s breath caught as she bent. Or, perhaps it was the minuscule structure of the cave itself. 

 

Spock heard Jim use his phaser to light up a piece of stalagmite. The light source showed that Spock’s initial assessment was correct. The entire cave couldn’t have been more than the size of Jim’s captain quarters. There were several books and bits of toys stacked to the side, a large pit where Spock presumed they cooked food, and a small curtained off area that looked to have the remains of some sort of pallet.

 

“Yeah. It wasn’t as bad as it looks. I was eleven... twelve. We stayed here for awhile. Some guys and I had thought ahead enough to steal away meds and PADDs of information. We had games and stuff for the little kids.” Jim forced a  smile meant to make others feel better. “Tommy’s parents were butchers, before. They were killed, but they’d squirreled away a lot of dried meat and stuff, so we were... lucky, really.”

 

The  ‘until the food ran out’ was left hanging in the room as though Jim had spoken the words. Nyota gasped again, and Spock turned to her. She was holding her stomach, and had staggered, her hand propping her body up against the  rough cave wall.

 

 “Nyota?”

 

 “Ny?”

 

“I think.. I should go outside. Please.”

 

Jim nodded and Spock moved to assist her up the twisting path and out of the cave opening. Spock’s eyes widened in shock as his hand brushed against Nyota’s wrist, the instant of sensation communicating her body’s stress.

 

Nyota jerked away from both of them, stumbling a little in her haste. Jim moved to Nyota’s left, as Spock moved to her right, moving in sync as they did so frequently. 

 

“Uh, Ny?”

 

Spock’s nostrils flared at the sharp, acidic scent that flooded his nose.

 

 "Please tell me that you just had a little accident.” Jim’s eyes were almost comically wide. A dark red blush obscured the normally tan skin as he looked at the darkening stain on the lower half of her  uniform.

 

Nyota gasped again, doubling in half.

 

 “Captain. It would appear that Nyota is in labor.” They both looked at him with almost equal looks of astonishment. 

 

“You _can’t_ be in labor! Can you like, cross your legs or something?!”

 

“That’s impossible.”

 

“Jim, it is not possible to cease labor pains in Terran females once they have begun. You should modulate your respiration or I approximate that you will lose consciousness in seventeen-point-three seconds. Nyota, as you have known that you were pregnant for approximately two-hundred and eighty-eight Standard days, I fail to see how the onset of labor can be surprising at this juncture.”

 

He moved quickly, picking Nyota up and moving briskly to the boulder. There was shade on the back side of the rock. Spock stooped to place her gently in the shade, firming his shields as her hand skittered onto his wrist, the supple strength of her grip negligible to him.

 

 “Sp-pock...” Her stutter was pain-filled, her eyes widened in panic.

 

 “Calm yourself, _kaisu._ I have researched common birthing practices of over twenty- eight male, one hundred and twenty-two female and six hermaphroditic species. We must ascertain how close your contractions are.”

 

“Yeah! Spock knows everything about that baby stuff!”  Jim’s voice sounded hoarse as he knelt at Spock’s side, holding Nyota’s other hand. He winced as her stomach muscles contracted, staring down  at her splayed legs.

 

 That surprised Nyota into a snort of laughter. “Oh... _oh._..Leo’s gonna kill me...”

 

 Jim looked delighted for a moment. “Nah. I don’t think he’ll kill you. But I bet he won’t be as pissed off at me the next time I... _owwuuuahh_. Wow. Ny..Ny _ota_ that is.. some grip you have there...”

 Spock repressed the desire to roll his eyes and went about his business, ascertaining that Nyota was as comfortable as possible, calculating the time between her contractions, attempting to ignore Jim’s inane, nervous babble.  An hour passed, then two. Jim grew more and more nervous, which was possibly one of the most illogical things Spock had ever witnessed, given that it was not he who was giving birth. 

 

“Nyota, continue to breathe. You are doing so quite satisfactorily. You are being very brave. I believe there is only forty-three more minutes before we can once again contact the Enterprise. Continue to breathe past it, yes. Do not worry.”

 

 “Yeah, you’re doing great! Bones is gonna be so proud of you. This is so badass. You’re making it look like a breeze. He’s gonna flip his shit when we beam you back up.”

 

 Jim met Spock’s gaze over the top of Nyota’s bent head. Spock gave a small head shake, and Jim’s eyes widened again.

 

“Nyota, may I touch your stomach?” He would not be able to meld with the baby, but he would be able to pick up whether or not the child’s heartbeat was accelerated, signifying if it was in some distress.

 

She nodded, gritting her teeth and crying out. Jim caught her before she could injure her head on the rock, and quickly moved so that she was cradled in the core of his body, his knees bent.

 

Spock pushed up her maternity top, brushing his fingers against her rippling stomach. He shut his eyes for a moment to concentrate. He had never done this before, but it was not difficult to sort the outpouring of emotion. Spock allowed his shields to drop, only to push the tips of his fingers nearer to where the baby’s heart was.

 

“Fascinating.”

  Spock’s eyes popped open to see them both staring at him. Nyota looked terrified, but determined, pain etching lines in her sweaty face. The look on Jim’s face was no less powerful, but not as easy to quantify. “Your daughter recognizes my touch.”  Spock could not keep the small quirk off his lips for anything.

 

 Nyota smiled, gasping as another contraction hit her.

 

 “Spock, man. How do you know all of this? You’re like calm as fuh-” Jim looked down at Nyota’s belly, nervously. “Er. I mean, Heck. Calm as heck. I guess you’re pretty excited to be someone’s godparent, huh? I am too- only... all I did was buy a bunch of pink cigars.”

 

 “I have researched-”

 

“Yeah,. Just.. thank you, Spock.”

 

 Spock understood that Jim was not thanking him for his research prowess. He schooled his face into something resembling his Vulcan control and spoke to Nyota, taking particular care to make sure the tone of his voice would not cause her undue stress. 

 

“You are welcome, Jim. Nyota, your daughter is in no distress, but I do not believe that you will be giving birth on the Enterprise.” Spock moved slightly so that he could assist her. “You will need to remove the pertinent parts of your uniform. And your undergarments. I believe your daughter is ready to meet you, Nyota.”

 

“Oh. Oh god oh god oh okay.... this is so not how I imagined this happen--” She sniffed once, sounding pitiful. “There was supposed to be Mozart and warm vanilla sugar candl--” She broke off, falling back onto Jim’s shoulder crying out in pain.

 

“Nyota! You must not push. You will harm yourself. Jim, take her hands and hold her in a comforting manner while I remove her clothes.”

 

“Uh.. yeah. Okay. Nyota? Did you hear that? Spock gave me permission to hold you while he strips you naked.”

 

“Jim---Kirk. If you don’t shut... up I will take my elbow and send your balls up into your throat.”

 

Jim blinked. “Kinky.” The response was on autopilot, but his gaze was locked on Spock’s, tense and concerned.

 

Spock ripped Nyota’s clothes, and removed the remains off of her legs. He gently touched her thighs and she spread them accordingly. “Indeed. Your daughter is moving down the birth canal. Jim will assist you with laying to a more comfortable position while I determine how diala--”

 

Spock’s saw the shape out of the corner of his eye and moved quickly, blocking the small body with his hip, instinctively keeping his hands from the filthy, matted fur. The cat made a curious sound under its breath, trying to see what was holding Jim’s attention.

 

“Oh hey, Spock? Uh, Spock? I’m just going to take a look and make sure that everyth--OH MY GOD WHAT IS **_THAT_** CAN’T FUCKING BE A VAG--OH MY GUHHHhhh---” 

 

  
There was a curious sounding thud and Spock sighed, turning back to Nyota, who had pushed herself up onto her elbows and was currently laughing hysterically through her tears. He could see that she had dilated significantly enough that the baby’s head was crowning.

 

 

 

Although Jim’s verbal acuity had made that quite clear.

 

 

 

Spock allowed himself one moment of amusement at the view of Jim, sprawled onto the grass with his lips and cheek pushed up most unattractively in the dirt. Spock took off his outer uniform shirt and covered his hands. It was not even close to being hygienically sound, but it was the best he could do given the current situation. Spock moved quickly, tugging Jim out of his way and making sure he was minimally comfortable, noticing that the feline hopped up onto Jim’s stomach, tightening and stretching the pads of his paws, a loud, rumbling purr signifying his content.  Spock then tossed his shirt aside and moved to assist Nyota.

 

 

 

“Spock? Do you--- think that--- he-- Jim--- will ever find this as funny as I do?”

 

 

 

“That is doubtful, _kaisu_. However, I do believe this will be quite useful for purposes of credit extortion should you ever find such actions necessary.”

 

 

 

“Spock, you... I love you, Spock. Th-- thank you.” Nyota’s eyes brimmed again, and Spock stared down at her, outwardly perfectly calm.

 

 

 

“And I you, Nyota. Now... _push!_ ”

 

 

 

***

 

It took Spock several hours to find Jim. When he did, it was in a small, out of the way observation deck.  The lights had been dimmed so that just the starlight reflected back into the small room. It highlighted Jim’s exhausted sprawl against the back of the couch. He had a PADD in one hand and stroked the top of Mittens’ head with the other.  Predictably, the now clean cat was purring.

 

 

 

“Hey, Spock.”

 

 

 

“Hello, Jim.”

 

 

 

“Have a seat.”

 

 

 

Spock did so, raising his eyebrow at the way the shameless feline flopped over so that Spock could scratch his ribs, should he so desire.

 

 

 

Spock did not care to do so at this time.

 

 

 

“I knew you’d find me.”

 

 

 

“Indeed?”

 

 

 

“Yeah. You know? You were great today. With Ny? I think Bones almost kissed you, man.”

 

 

 

His attempts to fiend off the emotionally distraught doctor had not been one of Spock’s more admirable moments. The human would not cease with his back slapping and grinning, insisting that ‘Spock was the best Vulcan, _ever_ ’, before bending to kiss his wife and new child with unrestrained fervor.  When the media ships had arrived, Spock had escaped, grateful for the reprieve.

 

 

 

“I am aware.”

 

 

 

They were quiet for a few moments. Jim put the PADD down and sighed, his hand flopping down on his leg. The cat attempted to poke it into submission with one stubby paw, but Jim just shifted the cat in the crook of his elbow, cuddling him close, listening to the small feline’s purr of  ownership.

 

 

 

“You know, with everything that happened? I don’t think that I gave those vipers the interview they were wanting.”

 

 

 

“I shall endeavor to restrain my emotional outburst at this realization.”

 

 

 

“Sarcasm, Spock?” Jim’s laugh was bright. “It’s just that.. I realized something while you were helping Nyota. _God_. You brought little Joanna into the world, Spock! I can’t even... that was...” Jim trailed off, thinking.

 

 

 

Spock did not disturb him. He could see the stars, and watch their light reflect off of Jim’s finely chiseled cheekbones. He could hear Jim’s quiet breathing, and the furious buzz of sound from the cat.

 

 

 

Spock was surprised to find that he felt almost... content.

 

 

 

“You were right, Spock. In a strange way, if we hadn’t gone back there, you might never have gotten the chance to deliver Joanna. What you said earlier was true, Spock. I didn’t get to tell you before, but I agree. I’ve always heard that friends were the family you made for yourself. We’re like a glove.”

 

 

 

“A glove.”

 

 

 

“Yeah. You can take one of the fingers off the glove, and you still have a glove. Only it doesn’t work as well.  I guess we’re like that, huh? You, me, Bones, Sulu... even Chekov and Scotty. We do amazing stuff together.”

 

 

 

“That is a... fascinating... metaphor, Captain.”

 

 

 

There was a sharp jab in his ribs. Spock allowed a small smile in the darkness.

 

 

 

“Shut up. You know what I mean.”

 

 

 

Spock did. They were quiet for a few more minutes. Spock saw out of the corner of his eye, that Jim’s hand moved imperceptibly closer to Spock’s leg.  He blinked, his heart thrumming for an instant in his side as he judged, weighed and measured the likely reasoning behind this careful movement. Greatly daring, Spock stretched out two fingers, slowly sliding them against Jim’s pointer finger, before slighting them even slower down his middle finger in a soft Vulcan kiss. He could hear Jim’s sharp gasp of breath.

 

 

 

Spock counted ten seconds before he felt Jim’s fingers moving against his, echoing the shy, trembling caress with one of his own.

 

 

 

  
  
THE END!

 

 

 

 

End Notes:

 Warm Vanilla Sugar Candles, Property of [](http://therumjournals.livejournal.com/profile)[**therumjournals**](http://therumjournals.livejournal.com/) .:D <3

 

As always, thanks for commenting and the concrit, either here [tumblr](http://1lostone.tumblr.com/), or [twitter](https://twitter.com/1geekgirl)!

 

(There is some sort of formatting wonkiness going on? SOORRRRY!)

 

 


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